


egg twink 2: easter boogaloo

by captorvatiing



Series: egg twink [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Easter Eggs, Fluff, Humanstuck, I swear to god it's fluff but watch those tags anyway, M/M, Meeting the Parents, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Panic Attacks, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:10:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captorvatiing/pseuds/captorvatiing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="”sollux”">Ψ: So you know II invited you two easter dinner? </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="”dirk”">Bro: I might remember something of the sort, yeah. </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="”sollux”">Ψ: Next weekend. Wear something nice b/c you’re meeting Rosa. </span>
</p><p>Easter is the perfect time to introduce your gay fuck buddy to your Jewish mom, I don't know what you're talking about. Featuring one questionable roast dinner, one incident involving jizz everywhere and the graphic description of a worryingly large egg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	egg twink 2: easter boogaloo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dogslug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogslug/gifts).



Some people think that when you’re Mentally Ill ™ you don’t realise you’re having symptoms but that’s bullshit because you’re having a panic attack and you know you’re having a panic attack because you can just about see Kankri frowning in the centre of your vision and you can feel anxiety digging its claws into your lungs like it’s trying to yank them straight out. You can hear Dirk, who isn’t having a panic attack but is definitely panicking, laughing in that strained fake kind of way but you can’t see him because he’s standing just past where your vision goes black.

You take a deep breath and move, so you’re holding your head up by your cheeks instead of your forehead, so you can look at him. “Dirk.” You say. “Shut the fuck up.”

It has been five months since he put you in the hospital. Maybe this is the encore. Maybe this is just going to be a thing now. He does something hilarious and incredibly stupid and then you end up laughing your way to a white washed waiting room and a wobbly plastic chair. How much good dick does it take to even out bi-annual hospital trips? Why that train of thought calms you down is a mystery but your breathing must be evening out because Kankri gets up and goes to whisper something to Diana instead of fretting at your heels. You hear Rosa telling them both to shoo before she hands you a glass of water. 

“How are you feeling?” She says. You drain the glass and give her a thumbs up. “Do you need anything?” 

You shake your head as you hand the glass back. Now that the panic is subsiding there’s plenty of space for embarrassment to really take hold. You glance up at Dirk, silently leaning against the wall, his expression inscrutable behind the shades, and your stomach turns. You know Rosa follows your line of sight because she clears her throat and raises a delicate pencilled eyebrow.

“Are you sure?” 

She’d kick him out without batting an eye. You’re fairly sure if you gave the slightest indication that this actually was a common occurrence the police would never find his body. You nod. 

“Positive.” Leave us alone, your eyes scream. “I’ve got this.” 

She nods and leans forward to kiss your cheek (wow, thanks that’s not embarrassing at all) before she sweeps back out of the room.

This was not how you wanted this day to go. 

It had started off as a joke. You’d been pussy footing around actually “”dating”” Dirk for a while and your partners were getting impatient. Although you are still pretty adamant that you are not actually boyfriends, you invited him over for Easter. Inviting the not-boyfriend (shut up, Diana) to celebrate a family holiday after five months of not-dating seems normal enough, but there was a slight flaw in your well laid out plan.

Some Time Earlier...

“Easter.” Di repeats skeptically, squinting at you over the back of the couch.

“Yes, Easter.” 

“We don’t celebrate Easter.” She says slowly, like you might have hit your head and forgot. “It’s too close to Passover and you only celebrate holidays you get presents out of.” 

She doesn’t get the joke yet, which is probably good because you think if she did get where this was going she’d just punch you and you need the extra handful of seconds to get to the other side of the kitchen counter. Making your entire family of seven celebrate a holiday from a religion you haven’t given a shit about since you were fourteen and daydreaming about sucking off the goblin king, because of your stupid egg-related game of one upmanship is definitely going to get you into some kind of trouble. You’re not sure what kind of trouble yet but you can feel it coming. Kankri won’t mind. Kankri will probably leap into hiding eggs all around the house and then try to claim that he’s way too Jewish to help you with the cleaning up, but Diana is a fickle beast. 

“It’ll be fun!” You say, and you realise too late that it’s too enthusiastic to be convincing. “I mean, for the kids.” 

“They’re teenagers! If you hand Karkat an easter basket he’s going to ram it up your butt.” 

“He would never; he loves me! And more importantly, chocolate.” 

Her squint narrows until you can’t see the green of her eyes. You grin and take another step around the kitchen counter. She kneels up, leaning her boobs across the back of the couch like a weapon and resting her chin on her hand. 

“Simon,” she says sweetly. “Why do you want to celebrate Easter with us?” 

You have always been a really terrible liar. 

Actually you’re a much better liar now than you were in college but you still can’t lie to her. You lean one hand on the counter without putting any weight on it and fidget with the bridge of your glasses.

“Oh, you know. I just, er.” She smiles, tipping her head to one side. “I thought it would be nice. For the family. Because we…” You flounder, running a hand through your hair. “Beeeecause…”

“Simon.”

“Shut up, I’m thinking. It’s because uhh-”

“Simon Captor are you trying to lie to me?”

“Okay, fine!” She leans back from the cushions with a satisfied grin. “I invited Dirk over.” 

“Oh my god! Your boyfriend?!”

“He’s not my-- Ow, fuck!” The remote skins your elbow and skids across the linoleum, coming to a halt against the skirting boards with a thud and the sad rattle of the batteries falling out. “What was that for?!” 

She slides round the counter faster than you’d bargained for and pins you against it, rubbing her hand over where the remote hit. “Sorry.” She says, pressing a smooch to your shoulder. “I wasn’t actually trying to hit you, but you don’t have to lie to me, dummy. Even if you are doing something really stupid.” 

“He’s still not my boyfriend.”

“I still can’t believe you’re making us have Easter for a _meme_!”

You grin. “So you’ll do it?”

“Yes, god. Fuck you though.” 

You lean back against the counter and wrap your arms around her waist, trapping her against you. You can see the split second where she realises what you’re about to say before you start waggling your eyebrows but when she opens her mouth to insult your intelligence you kiss her on the forehead instead. “I know,” you say, and she rolls her eyes. “Thank you.” 

“Yeah whatever.” She wriggles and you let her go, watching as she bounces back to investigate the fridge. “I’m not telling Rosa though.” 

Shit.

Thursday night rolls around. Diana is at her kickboxing class and Kankri has taken his car to take Karkat and Sollux to their little computer club thing, leaving you alone in the house waiting for Mituna to call from the Makara’s. Rosa will be round sometime before then to help you start dinner and you’ll have almost two hours to yourselves. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to spring your plan on her without being heckled. You’ve already planned out what you’re going to say, how you’re going to casually bring it up and sell the idea. She’s been wanting to meet Dirk for a while now so you’re pretty sure she won’t mind, in fact you’re damn sure because you’ve had this conversation twenty times in the shower already and there’s no way you can fuck this up. You even cleaned. You are _so_ ready. 

Rosa sweeps into the kitchen with a cardboard box tucked under one arm, trailing green silk and the smell of pastry and rose water. She traps you into a hug and kisses your cheeks when she’s barely through the door.

“Hey, Mom.” You say. 

The box gets deposited on the nearest counter and she turns to you with her hands on her hips. “Oh dear.” She says. “What did you do?” You sputter and go to defend yourself but she laughs, patting you on the arm and turning to start scooping things out of the box. “I’m only ever ‘mom’ when you want something.” She hands you a cabbage and a tin of tomatoes without turning around and you dutifully start putting them away. “Or when you’re drunk.” She squints at you and sniffs before turning back to her box. “So, what is it? You know you can ask me anything, dear, but I can’t promise I’ll say yes.”

Suffice to say this is not how you intended to start this conversation. Obviously that means you have to botch it up the rest of the way - you do things by doubles, not halves.

“I do not!” You lie. “Why did you instantly assume I fucked something up? Not fair.” 

“Language, and I didn’t, darling, I asked what you did. There was no implication of fuck ups whatsoever.” She turns to give you a stern look but there's a smile playing at the corners of her eyes. “It might surprise you to know that you are the only one who thinks you have the reverse Midas touch.” 

She’s probably right, because she’s always right, which is frustrating but you don’t sulk because you’re like forty-two and grown ass men do not sulk, thank you very much. You might, however, drop the lentils onto the counter a little more forcefully than necessary. “I invited Dirk to Easter dinner.” You say.

There’s a long silence and you can feel her scrutinising the back of your head. “I am giving you a look, Simon. I assume you already know why but please turn around so you can appreciate it properly, it is quite a good one.”

You turn and give her your very best innocent smile. “Please come? I know you wanted to meet him and-” 

“Oh, I’ll be there.” She says. “I am very excited to see the dinner you’ll be making.” 

You grimace. Haha, yeah okay. Guess it only seems fair to poison Dirk after what he did to you. He has to forgive you, you totally forgave him so he owes you. You even called, which was impressive really because it had been less than a day after your disaster date when you freaked out and Kankri had to drag you out of your own head and reassure you that sometimes, most of the time even, when you talk to people they don’t immediately start planning ways to avoid you forever. After all that he can’t stop seeing you because of a little lamb poisoning. As long as he didn’t die or something. Can you die of lamb poisoning? 

Rosa dusts her hands on her skirt and pats your cheek. “I’ll bring you a recipe.” She says.

Oh yeah, that works too. 

You spend the rest of the afternoon thanking her profusely for everything she’s ever done and all the things she just said she would do and later, when curry has been eaten and the kids sent to bed, you get on pesterchum and talk to Dirk.

Ψ: Sup.  
Bro: Howdy.  
Ψ: So you know II invited you two easter dinner?   
Bro: I might remember something of the sort, yeah.   
Ψ: Next weekend. Wear something nice b/c you’re meeting Rosa.   
Bro: Rosa, as in Kankri’s mother?   
Ψ: Rosa, yeah.  
Bro: I was under the impression that Judaism is a matrilineal religion.   
Ψ: He’s adopted.  
Ψ: Also goddamn why does everyone keep saying that?? They’re jewish they’re not allergic to jesus.   
Ψ: Or chocolate which is clearly the true meaning of easter.   
Ψ: The easter bunny didn’t die for your sins so you could fucking sass me Dirk.  
Ψ: Do you wanna come or not?   
Bro: I’ll be there.  
Ψ: Good. II’m cooking and everything.  
Bro: Woah, look at that I’m busy all of a sudden and don’t think I can make it.  
Ψ: Fuck you two buddy.  


If you were going to put a pin in the moment that the plan started going to hell it would probably be there. The plan was terrible from the off, half baked and now you think about it not actually funny but that moment right there, when Dirk agreed to go along with it and presumably started planning his counter attack, that is the moment that the whole thing starting spiralling out of your control. 

Your meticulous planning of the day failed to account for Netflix and chill with Dirk the night before turning into bad porn bingo and beer - a rooky mistake considering, well, the two of you - and when you finally wake up and roll yourself onto his side of the bed to squint at the time it’s already half eleven. Rosa will be at the house in ten minutes, the house which you are conspicuously not in. At least Dirk isn’t still in bed with you, but you can hear the shower running and that means he’s going to be at least another two hundred years getting ready. You grind your knuckles into your eyes and groan, groping along the edge of the drawers to find your glasses and finding nothing. Oh holy crap, where did your drunk ass drop them this time?

By the time you’ve found them and given up on locating your shirt it’s eleven forty nine and you have three missed calls. The updates start rolling in.

Di: Did you come home last night?   
Di: That’s a no. WTF??  
Di: (^._.^) Where are you??  
Di: Put the lamb in fur you but idk if it’s right.  
Di: Rosa is on her way  
Di: Rosa’s here. Doesn’t seem surprised that ur not.   
Di: (=XェX=) Kankri hid an egg in Karkat’s shoe and he stood on it.  
Di: Gonna be pissed if ur dead just fyi.   
Ψ: Hi, hello, not dead yet because Rosa can’t reach me from here.   


“Hey, Si, have you seen my tie?” 

You look up from your phone to Dirk, your mouth screwed up to one side in thought and both of your eyes widen simultaneously as you remember exactly where his tie is.

You glance at the headboard, he crouches to reach under the bed and comes up with your shirt and his tie tangled up in one hand. Pinched between two fingers of the other hand is a used condom.

An untied used condom.

He throws his tie on the bed, shakes out your shirt and grimaces.

“On a scale of one to ten…?”

“Jackson Pollock.”

Ψ: Nvm. II’m dead.  


An hour later you ring the doorbell of your own house in a shirt that is at least three sizes too wide and the jeans you left in the night before. Rosa purses her lips at you when she answers and suddenly you’re nineteen again and it’s summer break and you and Kankri just got caught trying to sneak back into the house with a six pack of shitty beer. You grimace at her and open your mouth to make up an excuse but she puts a delicate hand on your shoulder and nudges you out of the way so she can focus her disapproval on Dirk. You thought he was right behind you but when you turn to look there’s a blur of movement and he’s leant against the side of his truck with his hands behind his back. He’s wearing a button down and no tie which sort of serves to make him look like a used car salesman and despite your pleading he refused to trade in the hat or shades. He gives Rosa a cool up nod and glances through the window one more time before he pushes off the wheel with one foot and saunters over to shake her hand. You can’t see her face but he lifts her hand up to kiss her knuckles and you want to die. You jump when Kankri puts his hand on your shoulder and whispers, “I’ll look out for him, you go change.” 

You notice that your hands are shaking when you shut your bedroom door behind you. Deep breaths. It’s okay, it’s alright. You’ve got this. You’re not even worried. As long as you pick the right shirt you’ll be fine. 

Laughter creeps up from downstairs as Diana sneaks your door open and you rub your hands down your face. 

“Hey.” She says, her head tilted to one side. “You okay?”

“Mmh. Fine.” 

She gives you a Look as she brushes past you to rifle through your closet. “Dirk is laying it on so thick that Rosa is having a hard time pretending to be all stern at him.” She says over her shoulder. “And the boys are all hiding in Mituna’s room playing video games because every time they come downstairs Kankri tries to trick them into doing Easter crafts with him.” She turns and throws a pair of black jeans at you, squinting with one hand pressed against her mouth for a few seconds before she decisively grabs a green shirt and throws that too. “There’s an undecorated easter basket with your name on it, just so you know.”

You snort and shake your head as you wrestle your leg out of your pants. “I’m not very- Ow. Very good at crafts.”

She shrugs her arms out and flops onto the bed. “Dirk is though, right? Team effort.” 

“Oh god.” You start laughing, images of vaguely ominous, worryingly freudian comic sans Easter tidings swimming across your vision. “Oh my _god._ ”

Di props herself up on her elbows and crosses her ankles. “I’m telling Kankri.” 

“He’ll be _horrified._ ” 

“Eggsactly!” 

You drop onto the mattress next to her and she tries to kiss you but you’re both laughing and you end up just collapsing against each other in breathless silence, her hands lingering over your ass as she tucks the back of your shirt in. She has her hair tied up but as you pull back you brush your knuckles along her temple as though you were tucking it behind her ear. 

“Thank you.” You say. 

She makes a quiet dismissive noise and kisses you on the nose before she bounces off the bed, holding her hand out to help you up. “Back into the fray.” 

She squeezes your fingers as the two of you walk, giggling, down the stairs.

“Simon!” Rosa calls, brushing Diana out of the way. “You haven’t said hello to me properly yet, where’s my hug?” 

“Sorry, Rosa.” You say as you hug her, rolling your eyes when she presses a very deliberate kiss to your cheek and Dirk snorts into this hand. “Can I make it up to you with presents?” 

“Oh, always.” 

“Chocolate time?” Dirk says, stepping forward to put his hand on the small of your back.

“You mean you’re not going to hide them?” Says Kankri, failing to hide that he’s disappointed. 

You laugh and lean back into Dirk’s arm. “I’m not making mom crawl around the garden, you ass.”

“Well I’m making _you_ crawl around the garden.” He says, the corners of his eyes wrinkling as he grins. You roll your eyes and punch him in the arm.

“Guess I’m not getting yours then.” You say, shrugging Dirk off and turning to the living room door. You hear Kankri calling out, “wait” and “but-!” and snicker as you collect everyone’s eggs from their hiding place in the back of the cupboard. Now that you’ve joked about it you can’t actually find Kankri’s. All the others are there on the shelf but you end up climbing over the hoover with your ass in the air to try and save his from the floor. You hear laughing from the other room and slam your head into the underside of the shelf trying to turn around to see if they're laughing at you. Of course they’re not, because none of them have developed the powers of x-ray vision in the last five minutes and as you haul your bag of goodies out into the light, rubbing the back of your head and swearing, you feel like a fucking idiot. 

You’re grumbling when you open the door to the kitchen but the grumbling abruptly stops when you see the egg that’s waiting for you on the counter. 

It’s hand decorated with white and (Jesus, is that real?) gold and displayed in the most ostentatious cardboard box you’ve ever seen in your life, overflowing with gauzy tissue paper and flowers and little cotton wool chicks. It’s the size of your fucking head and worse, it’s been lovingly sculpted as an exact copy of the hard boiled egg from your first date, ridiculous caricature of your face and all.

That thing probably cost more money than you made in the last two weeks. 

Oh god, you think you’re going to throw up.

Your hands are visibly shaking when you put your bag of (shitty, not good enough) treats on the counter next to it and Kankri is making concerned noises at you but you’re not listening. You manage to sink into a stool before your legs give up on you and bury your face in your hands and oh god oh fuck you can’t breathe. You hear Diana swear and Dirk start to panic and haha wow, that is not helping.

So yeah, you’re having a panic attack about a fucking Easter egg. It’s possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever had a panic attack about and that’s including the time you cried for two hours because you couldn’t find your tooth brush. For what feels like a ridiculously long time all you can think about is how stupid this is and how embarrassing you’re being and how you’re never, ever, ever going to be good enough and oh fuck oh god oh shit--

Eventually, your wandering mind calms the fuck down and you remember how to breathe, and Rosa gives you water and kisses you softly on the cheek, and you’re left shivering and tired and alone with Dirk. 

“I’ve got this,” you said. You fucking lied.

Neither of you say anything. The silence stretches over you both like saran wrap, if you don’t break it you’re going to suffocate and you only just got your lungs back under control. 

“Um.” You say.

“Uh.” Dirk says at the same time and the awkward tension snaps. He pushes off from the wall and laughs. “I mean. Shit, not good?” 

“No it’s not-” You huff and lean back, crossing your arms across your chest. “It wasn’t you. Well it, it was, you- But, I. But it’s not your fault! The egg is hilarious.”

“That sure didn’t look like laughing, bro.” 

“No it… Wasn’t.” You grimace. “I just uh. My bullshit cocktail of mental fuckery, remember?” 

“Aight.” He takes a deep breath and crosses the kitchen in a few steps, holding a hand out like he’s trying to tempt a stray kitten. You roll your eyes at him and take it, fidgeting with his fingers as he talks. “Not tryna be an ass, bro, but I’d appreciate if you could give me a heads up on how to handle the mental fuckery. What did I do?” 

You purse your lips and glance at the egg. You think of money and how much you don’t have and not being good enough, never ever being good enough. “I don’t like people spending money on me.” You say finally. 

“You saying I can’t splash out on the boyfriend without sending him to defcon one?” 

“Yeah- Er, I mean- Eurggh.” You screw your face up and don’t look at him.

He pulls your hand up with his when he presses it to his chest. “My sugar daddy dreams, dashed.” You snort laugh and whap his chest, letting your hand drop down to hook in the loops of his jeans and pull him closer, close enough for you to bury your face in his shoulder and sigh. “I’m messin’.” He clarifies and you laugh again.

“Just, some warning would be nice. If you absolutely _have_ to shower me in gifts.”

“Gottit.”

“Dirk?”

“Yep?”

“You said boyfriend.” 

There’s a long pause. He doesn’t tense, but you sort of get the impression that he’s feeling you out to make sure you didn’t either.

“Not gonna panic about that, are you?” 

You punch him in the stomach and he hooks his arms around your shoulders, watching you through his shades. You tug his hips forwards again and catch his lips, laughing against them as your glasses knock together, and pull back just a little, just enough that you can see his eyes through his shades. 

“I prefer sugar daddy.” You grin.

He kisses you again, pressing forwards to lean you back on the stool as you laugh and shriek at the loss of balance. From the door you hear Kankri clearing his throat and then Karkat going, “Oh, fuck, gross!” and you pull apart, you surreptitiously straightening your glasses and Dirk as blank faced and composed as ever.

“The boys wanted to use the kitchen.” Kankri says, silent laughter creasing his eyes again. “If you-” For a second he just looks at you, a frown creeping across his face as he sniffs the air. “What’s that smell?”

You frown back at him for a second and then mouth drops open as you realise-- “Oh, son of a bitch, it’s the lamb.”

**Author's Note:**

> ps. please click on these very important [related](http://blog.dennys.com/post/82821377595/easter-is-just-around-the-corner-and-that-means) [links](http://straightwhiteboystexting.tumblr.com/post/126624523504/lets-play-a-game-called-spot-the-white-boy), they are my muses. my inspiration.


End file.
